Friday Night is for the Boy
by katocchi
Summary: After breaking up with the jerk of the century, Sophie Casterwill doesn't expect to find herself seated in a nightclub talking to Lok Lambert of all people―but pretending to be his girlfriend? She's going to kill Zhalia (non-powers!au)


**f**riday **n**ight **i**s **f**or **t**he **b**oy

* * *

_**L'Infinité, Venice, Italy**_

"For the record, I did _not_ agree to this."

Before the past year, the words _Sophie Casterwill_ and _bad idea_ didn't go together often. She was known for being cautious, careful, and wary to the point of unnecessary paranoia, but after becoming Stefano's girlfriend, she always seemed to be involved with a series of bad ideas―the start of which was agreeing to be his girlfriend in the first place. So when Zhalia suggested they go clubbing and hang by the bar to nurse Sophie's recent heartbreak, the younger girl couldn't help throwing caution to the wind with a breezy _Sure, couldn't hurt._

Actually being in the club, though, has dimmed her confidence.

"Of course, Little Miss Casterwill never agrees to my plans," Zhalia rolls her eyes before sliding over a drink. "Don't worry, this will get you tipsy at best. The night is still young; no point in getting wasted yet."

"Thanks," Sophie takes the glass and sends an appreciative nod to Dante, the russet haired bartender she often sees at Zhalia's place. He gives her a small smile and turns back to his work. With her other hand, she tugs on the hem of her dress self consciously, stopping only when she realizes the neckline droops down in response. "I know I said yes, but isn't this, I don't know, a bit much?"

"You dated _Stefano Moreno_ for a year. Wasn't that a bit much?" Zhalia raises an eyebrow and Sophie groans, burying her face in her hands. "I'm refraining from saying 'I told you so,' but it's hard."

"I guess I should've listened to everyone in the beginning. It was more than his pretty face. It just felt so nice to be appreciated for once that I ignored all his...not so attractive qualities."

Zhalia snorts. "Understatement of the century. He was such scum, I would've mistaken him for a shit stain, if he didn't have a heartbeat. In fact," she leans forward conspiratorially, "are we even sure he has a heart?"

Sophie can't help the giggle that escapes her. "Jeez, Zhalia, if you wanted to spend time trashing my ex, we could've done it over wine at my house. I'd rather be in sweats right now."

"And miss out on all this?" the older woman motions to the pulsing lights and humanoid shadows dancing across the floor. Sophie has to admit that the atmosphere, as gross and sweaty as it is, is keeping her in a better mood than sulking in her room would've. "Besides, what are friends for?"

_Friends_ comes out a little stiff, but it's to be expected. They had only recently shifted from bitter enemies to reluctant acquaintances to unlikely friends, which Sophie is grateful for, though she'll never admit it out loud. She watches as Zhalia twirls her glass, hazel eyes sweeping expertly around the room ― searching for _what_, she couldn't guess.

"So, I'll let you take the lead for now. What do you want to do, sit here, get some drinks, and look good? Venture out there, dance a bit, look good? Stalk around, survey the scene, look good? Just for the next hour, your will's my command. Use my temporary compliance wisely."

"Does everything we do have to include looking good?"

"Obviously," she tucks stray locks of blue behind her ear with a sultry grin that makes Sophie's knees shake. Her _power_. No wonder Dante's enchanted. "Not like it takes any effort. We look incredible tonight."

"Yeah, _you_ do."

"Sophie. We've talked about this," the deep set frown marring Zhalia's features makes Sophie feel a little guilty. "Moreno was an ass and none of his words mean anything. Remember, I'm in a relationship and this doesn't nothing for me―but girl, you're _hot_."

Almost as if he was waiting for the cue, Dante wanders over from the other end of the counter and hands them each another glass of something pink and pretty Sophie forgets the name of. "Courtesy of the group to your seven."

Sophie glances over her shoulder at the boys: probably around her age, if not younger, and fidgeting way too much to be considered potential catches. She gives a teasing wave that sends them hollering, elbowing each other in excitement.

"Rein it in, you vixen," Zhalia chuckles, taking a sip and grimacing at the sweetness. "You're gonna make them think they have a chance. Anyone who orders _this_ is young enough to be my child. I'm sending this one back, Dante."

"Ladies, I'd pace myself, if I were you. There's a queue of requested drinks for you two; I doubt you'll have to buy a single one tonight."

Though Zhalia laughs as Dante leaves, already familiar with the attention and enjoying it for once, Sophie feels her skin flush. If this was her a year ago, she'd blurt out something along the lines of _These boys better know my attention is a privilege_ with a haughty hairflip to make Zhalia snort and she'd somehow turn the situation into a competition to feed their rivalry. A well placed comment here, a nicely timed scoff there…just enough to get under the older woman's skin. _That_ Sophie thrived on her wit, beauty, and charms. _This_ Sophie doesn't know if she has any of those anymore.

"There's a kid approaching on your right," her companion says lowly. "Do you want me to scare him off?"

"I can handle it myself," she smooths down the front of her dress, internally commanding her heart to stop hammering. She tries to channel her old confidence and brings a smirk to her lips. "How bad could it be―"

"Sophie Casterwill? It is you! Thank God," a recognizable voice, definitely _male_, sighs in relief and drops into the seat next to her.

Zhalia attempts to duck away, but Sophie's hand shoots out and grasps onto her elbow before she could hop off the stool. The girl's eyes are widened in terror and she mouths desperately Wait, wait, stay. Please. Turns out, it could be pretty bad.

With her friend sitting again, Sophie spins around and greets the newcomer with a smile too bright to be real. "Lok Lambert! Fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, it's kinda crazy! I didn't think I'd ever see you with your nose out of a book, but a nightclub? Man!"

"Yes! Very crazy. Incredibly crazy. One might even use the word insane or ludicrous or absurd," Sophie titters nervously.

Zhalia cuts in before Sophie turns into the Merriam-Webster Thesaurus. "Lok, was it? I'm Zhalia, one of Sophie's acquaintances and the one responsible for this. If if wasn't for me, she'd probably be wrapped up in her blankets, reading a dictionary til she falls asleep at nine."

"Hey!"

"Isn't that what you categorize as a 'crazy Friday night'? Going to bed an hour later than your usual bedtime?" Zhalia stage whispers to Lok. "The granny lifestyle works for some, but not all."

The comment evokes a laugh from the boy and, even with the slightly angry blush on Sophie's face, she's grateful Zhalia broke the ice. "_Anyway_, ignore her. She's annoyed with me because I'm keeping her from her boyfriend. What are you doing here?"

"My friend brought me, too, actually! He's meeting up with a blind date and took me as his DD...and an excuse in case the date takes a wrong turn. They met like half an hour ago and they're still freaking out about speaking English in a French club in Italy. I was getting bored so I looked around and I thought I saw you so I decided to make my way over," Lok rubs the back of his neck.

She remembers that habit. It always meant that he had something more to say. "Is that all?"

"Well, no," he hesitates, but at her eyebrow raise, he admits, "The girl coincidentally brought a friend with her, too, and thought it'd be cool if we have a double date. But her friend is someone I know from high school and I'm really, really, _really_ not interested so I told her I was heading to the bathroom and tried to lose her in the crowd. She ended up following me!"

"Yikes. What's your plan now?"

"I don't know," he slumps onto the counter and throws his arms over his head. "I can't just abandon my buddy."

"I have a plan," Zhalia pipes up. Something about her expression fills Sophie's stomach with dread. "Why don't you pretend Sophie's your girlfriend? It'll get that other chick off your back."

Oh, if looks could kill.

"Really?" Lok straightens eagerly. "You'd do that?"

"Why not," Zhalia answers for her. Sophie's too mortified to speak. "We were just trying to decide what to do when you headed over. Besides, she looks _good_; it'd be a waste if she withered here in the corner all night. Isn't that right, Lok?"

"Yeah, Soph, you look great."

"Thank you, but I really don't think I'd be the best candidate."

"Drinks for the ladies from the gentleman on the second floor and the one in the blue over there." Dante, again with the incredible timing. This one looks stronger than she's used to so she prods it over to her friend instead. "They sent you the same drink, but I don't want to bother with making it twice. You're very popular recipients tonight."

"See, even other guys agree," Zhalia crows and swallows the shot immediately. "You down, princess?"

"I _could_, but…"

Lok nods sympathetically. "Is it because of Stefano? It's cool if he'd be, y'know, not cool with it."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Stefano. We're, uh, we're not together anymore. I'm down! I'll do it."

The blond beams and she finds herself mirroring; his energy is infectious. "That's great! Okay, I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quick and be back. I owe you one!"

"Yes, of course!" Once he's out of sight, she whirls around and jabs a finger into her friend's shoulder. "What were you _thinking_?"

The woman remains composed. Despite the harsh poke, her drink―yet another one from some rando―barely sloshes in the glass. "Lok Lambert," she muses, ignoring Sophie's glare. "Sounds familiar. Sounds awfully like that guy you had the biggest crush on in second year. The anthro major, was it? The one with the big shot archaeologist dad?"

"Zhalia!"

"This is your chance to shoot your shot. You liked him before you liked Stefano and I know you only gave up because of that Scarlet girl. But he's single right now and so are you. I approve of this one. And if it doesn't work out," she shrugs, "you get a taste of what could've been. You've never been one to back down from a challenge. Now go get em, Casterwill."

* * *

And that's how Sophie ends up separated from Zhalia and under Lok's arm.

"Relax," she coaxes, patting his thigh. "If you're too stiff, she'll be able to tell you're lying."

He eases his posture immediately and curls around her body. In their new spot, a cushioned booth with a perfect view of their surroundings, she prays that it's dark enough to cover her flush. "Right, right, sorry. I'm not used to this. So, um, how long have you and Stefano been broken up?"

She pulls back to give him an amused look. "Lok Lambert, asking your pretend girlfriend about a previous suitor does not bode well for the act."

He winces. "Sorry! Forget I asked. It must be awkward for you."

"...I mean, I saw it coming for a while," she settles back against his chest with a sigh. She doesn't know if it's the warmth of his presence, the alcohol in her body, or the cologne flooding her senses, but being with Lok makes it so easy to let down her walls. "At some point, our relationship felt like a game and you know how I am with games. I love a challenge. I love winning. But this was a game I couldn't beat him in. It felt like...I was always making the wrong moves and he was always a few steps ahead of me, knowing just how to talk, just how to treat me, so that I would be on the verge of giving up. People kept on saying how I was making a mistake, but the nice periods of our relationship were so wonderful. It was like, _Wow, so this is love_. It completely overshadowed the bad moments."

"I didn't know. Everyone saw you guys as one of the perfect campus couples." The hand on her shoulder tightened. "He never hurt you, did he?"

"Physically? God, no. He knew I could wipe the floor with him, if I wanted to. No, he was very strategic, always playing mind games. I thought my mentality was strong, but he was stronger."

"Hey, Soph?"

"Hmm?" He's twirling her hair now, probably destroying the half updo she worked hard on, but she couldn't care less.

"What happened to us? I feel like we were really good friends and then everything...stopped."

"Yeah…"

"For the first three semesters of uni, I was in so many of your classes, but you never recognized me! I knew you, though. Sophie Casterwill. It was a pretty cool name and you were always in the front of the class."

"Pft, and you were Lok Lambert, the guy who always slept through the 8AMs."

"I don't think you ever looked my way until halfway through second year, when I asked you to tutor me. And then you _obviously_ couldn't resist my charm―" Her smile falters. If only he knew. "―and we became super close, but then it was like you dropped off the face of the earth during fourth year. You started dating Stefano; I always saw the two of you together on campus. It was super weird. We went from talking all the time to never talking at all. I didn't even know you stayed in the country after graduation until just now."

She clears her throat. "Things happen. I was traveling around for business and only recently came back. What about you? I remember you and Scarlet Byrne were quite the topic."

He groans, dragging a palm down his cheek. "You still remember that? It was probably the most embarrassing couple of months ever. When those guys asked me about my childhood crush, I didn't see the harm in giving a name and description. Walking into class a few weeks later with Scarlet as a TA? They never let me live it down."

"Rumors were flying around like crazy. All these accusations of a romance between the two of you."

"Well, they weren't all _wrong_. I guess I put her on a pedestal for so much of my childhood that when I saw her again, I couldn't help continuing my superficial crush. And I ended up asking her out. We forced ourselves on two dates and decided it was best to stay as friends, but we still met up pretty often. Everyone was blowing it way out of proportion."

"So should I classify the supposedly wild sexcapade in Professor Monty's closet as fact or fiction?" she teases, slightly relieved that they didn't end up together. There's a twinge of regret; she wishes she didn't give up so easily.

"Oh god! Total fiction, I swear," he shakes his head, ears bright pink. It's cute, Sophie notes. "Anyway, do you see that girl over there? In the green dress? The one walking over? That's―"

"Alexia Clairmont," Sophie's eyes narrow.

"My, my, is that the Casterwill heiress?" the other girl, now standing in front of them, smirks. "Lok, I knew your standards dropped, but to this level? I don't think that's recoverable."

He glances between the two of them; the tension in the air was almost tangible. "You know each other?"

"Alisa Clairmont's daughter. Alisa tried to reserve the East penthouse at the Venice Hotel after I already booked it and got pissed. Her dog bit Le Blanche and one of my guests, who I was reserving the room for. When they told her, she hit both of them. Tried to hit me before Santiago stepped in."

Alexia makes a sound of false sympathy. "My mother and her chihuahua send their condolences. She was having a bad day and it stressed her dearly to find that her favorite room had been taken by a mere _orphan_ running around with her pretend guards and fake money."

"You can tell the little rat to shove it," Sophie snarls, "and her dog, too. A quarter of my inheritance could buy your whole estate ten times over. You know your mother's money is only from those rich old men she keeps snapping up."

"They marry her out of love," Alexia slams her palms on the table. "The fortunes just happen to be there. Careful, Sophie, not having a parent's love is turning you into quite the bitter bitch."

"This bitter bitch can demolish you, if you don't―"

"Oooookay," Lok takes Sophie's clenched fists and squeezes reassuringly. Her eyes flit over, still furious, still smoldering, but she allows him to sit her back down. "Listen, Lex, great to see you again, but I think you should leave."

"Why don't you leave with me?" A giggle and a quick flash of green. She's suddenly pressed against his chest, hands roaming down his arms. Sophie's anger flares again. "I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

"I said it before and I'll say it again, I'm not _interested_. I'd really appreciate it if you left my _girlfriend_ and I alone."

"You're never without a man, are you, Casterwill?" Alexia scoffs. "First, your little kung fu boy toy and your fake Alfred Pennyworth. Then, freaking Stefano Moreno. And now, Lok Lambert coming to your rescue? Always hiding behind someone...whose ass are you gonna chase next once you get bored of him?"

"You _never_ know when to stop, do you?" Sophie jumps back to her feet, but Lok's already positioned himself in front of her, arm thrown out protectively. "Lok?"

"Alexia, we've entertained you for long enough. I highly suggest that you go because I'm very close to making you regret not going sooner," he growls. "And your friend looks really happy over there. She'd be devastated, wouldn't she, if I tell my buddy that she isn't a good match for him. You know how much he trusts my word."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

She's silent, contemplating how much weight his threat had, but the determined glint in his eyes is enough for her. "Fine," she wiggles her fingers and gives another fake titter, "Go to hell, Casterwill."

Sophie mimics the action. "Already been there, Clairmont! Didn't you get my postcard?"

It isn't long until Sophie loses sight of her retreating figure disappearing into the crowd, but the other girl's absence doesn't soothe the anger in her blood.

"Can you believe her nerve!" She can't help it; she starts pacing. Her irritated footsteps are paired with aggrieved hand wringing and Sophie feels almost numb. "She has one talent and it's the ability to know _exactly_ how to get me like this."

"Yeah."

And she's engulfed by the smell of _Lok_ so suddenly, it makes her freeze, fingers gripping at the material of his jacket. It's large on her, almost swallows her small frame whole―she never realized how wide his shoulders are.

"Sorry," he says almost sheepishly and uses the sleeves to guide her closer. "Your dress is just, uh, moving a lot."

Sophie peers down and notices a strap has fallen from its place, causing to the fabric to dip forward precariously. "Right, oh God, sorry. Wouldn't want to flash everyone in the room. I'm just so fired up."

"I should take you back to Zhalia," he reaches up to brush her hair out of her face. "You okay? I shouldn't have asked you to do this; it's only ruined your night."

"No, it's fine! I should probably stay with you in case Alexia or some other girl comes over. To save you the trouble of trying to avoid them again."

"Sophie, it's really okay. You don't have to do this for me."

"It's not like I don't _want_ to. Um, help you, I mean."

"I know! And I totally appreciate it, you helping me, but it's making me a bit," a pause, "uncomfortable?"

She blinks blankly. Her heart, previously pounding at his proximity, skips a beat before accelerating again. She's making him feel _uncomfortable_. Sophie's brain zooms through the past few minutes, wondering if she's overreacted in any way, but comes up empty and she feels a little sick. "...I'm so sorry."

"Wait, Soph, I didn't mean it like that―"

She shrugs off his jacket and tries to press it back into his hands as he stammers out an explanation. "I think it's because I acted too familiar with you. I forgot we're not friends anymore."

"Wait, what do you mean, not friends?" He pushes the jacket back at her. "Even if we haven't talked in a few years, I've always, and _will_ always, consider you my friend, Sophie."

Her throat closes. Yeah. _Just_ a friend. But she can't tell him why it bothers her.

Or maybe she can. Maybe she _should_. Then, she can cut ties with him completely and spend the rest of her life avoiding him and this silly crush. Probably not a good idea, but it's something for Future Sophie to deal with.

"Can I tell you something?"

She stops in surprise, the same words on the tip of her tongue. "I...yes?"

"Back in school," he hesitates, "I couldn't help feeling that I was the one pushing you away. Y'know, when we stopped talking. And I _know_ you're going to say it wasn't because of me, but I could see it. You were constantly awkward, you avoided my eyes, and you kept making up excuses to not hang out."

"Lok, it really wasn't you," she offers, but he's shaking his head. He doesn't believe her.

"I'm sorry that I messed us up like this, Sophie," he says apologetically. He lets his head fall forward in shame and he looks so vulnerable, she wants to reach out and touch his face. "I just...I tried so hard to hide my feelings from you that I came off as standoffish and I didn't mean to, but every time you got close, I found it so hard to breathe."

_Sophie's_ the one that's finding it hard to breathe. She rewinds and fast forwards his sentence―once, twice, three times―and decides that yes, she _did_ hear him right.

"And please don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this now because I-I expect something out of this. You don't even have to answer. I wanted to tell you as a sort of _explanation_ that's probably long overdue, but hopefully, this clears things up and maybe," he coughs awkwardly, "we could be friends again?"

Her mind is somehow zooming at 100 miles an hour and stuck at an annoyingly long red light at the same time. So she does the one thing she feels like she can do: she laughs. Her soft giggles slowly grow into full blown chuckles and it isn't long until she's doubled over in hysterics. Her name tumbles out of his lips in concern, but she only clutches his elbow and wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Take me back to Zhalia."

* * *

"For the record, I _didn't_ agree to this."

"Of course, Little Miss Casterwill never agrees to my plans," Zhalia rolls her eyes. "Thanks for coming, though. I needed the company."

"I thought I was only here as your driver."

"That, too, but I was trying to be nice."

"You're gonna have to try a little harder," Sophie tries to deadpan, but mirth shines through her voice. "We came here a little over a week ago. You have to let me know if this is going to become a regular thing because I can't keep borrowing dresses from you. Not that they aren't nice, but having my own collection of skimpy dresses might be useful."

Zhalia whistles lowly, giving her an appreciative scan. "Wear one of these to those personal business meetings of yours and the poor heirs will be too busy staring to speak."

"Zhalia!" she exclaims, but gone is the self deprecating laugh from last week. In its place is a confident smile that makes her feel like _Sophie Casterwill_ again.

"I'm serious! Your legs are killer. Like, you're―Dante! Just one drink this time?"

The russet haired man nods and slides it in front of Sophie. "Courtesy of that guy in blue to your seven."

She glances over her shoulder and spots the sender immediately. He's leaning back against cushioned chairs, chatting with another man and clinking glasses amicably. As his companion pauses to take a drink, his eyes dart over to Sophie and he sends her a smile, all clumsy and endearing. She returns it with a flirty wave and a look that Zhalia dubbed _too sultry to exist on this Earth_, but it doesn't faze her boyfriend. He quickly responds with a well practiced wink so smooth, it makes warmth pool in her stomach.

Oh, Lok Lambert, you are going to _get_ it.

* * *

**AN: **Hello, friends! Watching a few episodes of _Huntik_ again reawakened my old Lophie feels and I _really _wanted to write something for them, so...this came to be. I couldn't decide on an ending and wrote a few different ones, but this ending felt the most right. Thank you for reading and please leave a review!

Please visit my profile for links to my Ko-fi and Patr(e)on to view my art or support my work!

_katocchi_


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